Symbiotic Relationships
by Rian Moeru
Summary: Trapped, and then free, It would stop at nothing to get what was Its. After all, the symbiote belonged to Peter Parker, and Parker to It. They were two, meant to be one, and one they would be. Based on the symbiotes point of view from Ultimate Spider-man, episode Venom.
1. Chapter 1

**First, I would like to point that I actually do not like the Ultimate Spider-man. I find a few episodes acceptable, like episode five and the ones with the Hulk. I much prefer the Spectacular Spider-man, which, while it did not have a _spectacular_ animation (pun intended), it had a much better story line than the Ultimate Spider-man, which has an adequate animation, but a far less quality story, instead relying heavily on comedy. Comedy alone does not a Spider-man show make.**

**Second, I got this idea from reading an Ultimate Spider-man fic called** Venom** that was based on the symbiotes point of view. But the grammar and spelling weren't good. So I decided to do my own take. It follows the episode until about the end, s****o enjoy.**

**I do not own the Ultimate Spider-man, nor any variations thereof or any characters from the show or comics.**

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The first thing that It was aware of was that It was being contained by a smooth, cold, translucent material. Glass, something echoed It's newly created mind. It did not like the coldness and missed the warm place where it had once been. The next was that it was dark, filled with many blinking lights. But none of this mattered to It. It felt a pull on It's very being, and very much wanted to leave this place and find the source of the pull. That which It was and It was the Other.

The ooze pondered where it was and how it had come to be here, and knew that It belonged elsewhere, when an ugly, multi-limb creature came into It's sight. The creature was hideous, and suspended in the air by four metallic arms. The arms and legs on it's body dangled uselessly as he moved, it's breath ragged and heavy. The human neared, bringing the grotesque face closer to the container to look at it. The ooze recoiled as the metal arms touched the glass, and the doctor muttered to himself. When the human moved away, he examined data on a nearby screen. It struck against the glass that trapped it, making a light pinging noise with each hit.

The human, turning at the noise, was quite intrigued by the symbiote. Did it have a will of it's own, he wondered. Could it think? Was it trying to break the glass to escape or to kill him? So many fascinating questions and he couldn't wait to discover them all.

The scientist entered the glass container that held the symbiote with two of his metal arms, poking and prodding the creature with many a sharp and painful objects. This went on for hours, and It grew angry with the human, especially when he took a piece of Itself and took someplace else. It didn't know where, but the symbiote felt the excruciating pain when the small piece of It had died from a surge of energy that had incinerated it instantly.

"Fascinating...Contains the deadliest aspects of Spider-mans DNA. Distilled aggression. Pure venom, among other things." It heard the freak muttered once more. The symbiote had quickly grown tired of the painful experiments and hated the one who caused the hurt, and sought return the pain that had been inflicted upon It. But it had something more important to do, so the ugly thing's death would have to wait. The black creature grew in strength, despite the tortures.

When the timing was right and the humans back was to It, It broke through the glass prison, where it shattered into many pieces upon the floor. The human did a one-eighty, gasping at the sight of the symbiote swelling, forming many tentacles slashing through thick cables and machinery with ease. Then it formed into one large tendril of black ooze, using it to destroy the wall and drill through the rock behind it.

When it finally broke through the final layer, It found itself in a liquid that completely encompassed it. Cool and fluid, it was not so unlike itself in form, and found it enjoyable. But It couldn't stay here. There was something that It needed to do. A sirens song filled Its being, an irresistible call to find the one it had come from, and promised to complete the symbiotes fractured being, that which it desired above all else.

It moved along the surface, like an oil stain upon the water, and found a large pipe that led deep into the city. Untouched by the sludge that streamed through the tunnels, it traveled in the underground, following the lure earnestly. The Other moved fast and constantly, and an insufferable amount of time passed before the Other finally slowed, making It edgy with excitement.

It traveled quickly through the water system, following the footsteps of Its beloved Other, when it went into a small room, filled with many places that It could enter from. But there was another form in the room that was too bright for Its liking, one that was taller and bulky than Its counterpart. It was angry when the human grabbed him, and roughly shoved him into one of the cubicles and speaking in an arrogant, condescending tone . It filled the water of said cubicle, and swirled around. The blond stared at the black fluid, confused at first, and then afraid when It rushed upward, forming one large tendril with other smaller ones lining it, and a set of eyes and mouth adorned the top. As it saw it's Beloved for the first time, It grinned, staring at the brunette with rapt attention.

Both teens fell backwards, a look of horror stuck on their faces, and screamed as It lowered down ever so slightly to look at them. Then, the blond thrusted the Other forward in front of It, and the symbiote could hardly contain Its joy.

"H-here! Eat the nerd!" He said, and the symbiote spoke for the first time.

"Nerd!" It repeated, in a deep, ominous voice that frightened them both, before It lunged forward, aiming at the brunette. It missed as the teens, split in opposite directions, but the symbiote wasn't to be deterred. Almost as fast as the eye could blink, It forced itself on the larger male, pushing him to the floor as It began to envelope him.

The symbiote wanted to leave this host as quickly as It had taken the human. It was a stupid thing, ignorant and cruel to Its Other, the symbiote thought as It tasted the memories of Flash Thompson. No matter. The useless sack of flesh would provide It a body, that It would use to meet Its desires. It stretched the arms of Its host, attempting to grab the youth

Parker, as It had learned Its Others name from this ones mind, had other ideas, and jumped onto the wall to avoid their reach. He continued to flee as the symbiote persisted, eventually throwing him through the door, breaking it apart as he feel through and tumbled down the stairs. Splinters flew everywhere, and a dark-skinned teen caught the Parker before he crashed at the bottom of the stairwell.

The symbiote followed, slower than It would like as Its host fell forward. Pathetic flesh bag, It though. The human was already becoming lost to the black sustenance that surrounded him.

Regardless, they jumped down the stairs, and shrieked at the many humans standing before them, and sent tendrils to destroy the painful lights above. Fear was instantly instilled in them, and they panicked, fleeing the room in a mad, mindless dash for the exit.

Parker disappeared in the fleeing crowd, but the symbiote knew that he had not fled with the crowd. They could sense him, clinging to a dark spot on the wall where he was not so easily found by others. Then, he came into view and was wearing a costume and hanging on the opposite side. A tendril smashed into where he was, yet missed as Parker leaped off the wall. Another came into view, hitting them with a bright blue beam that knocked them down.

The two heroes stopped paying attention, foolishly bantering with each other and giving It the opportunity to jump to another host. Nova, It learned as It ravaged the teens mind, screamed in fear, struggling against It before he too fell silent. The new host and It grinned as the old collapsed and their hands glowed white-blue. It turned to Parker, and attacked with a long tendril that held a sphere of energy at the end, and tore large holes in the ceiling and floor.

It knew that the desired host would not give up so easily. They would need to wear the wall-crawler down before the two could bond. And then everything would be as it should. It knew that the host and the Spider each hated the other, and cared not if this host was damaged.

Spider dodge, but was caught by them mid-jump in the chest, where he was forced through several walls until he was falling to the streets below. His descent was stopped by a well placed web-line, and suddenly he was running the wall as they chased him, throwing blast after blast.

The three soon landed on the roof, where the symbiotes host fought It once more, forced to recede when Nova shined brightly for a brief moment before swallowing him in darkness once more. How foolish. It would punish this one for defying It, for slowing It down. The symbiote would crawl into every dark place in the creatures mind, and destroy him from the inside out, taint every light in the boys soul. And Novas body crumpled into the cement. Thus Powerman ran toward them, and, against his leaders orders, he grabbed onto the symbiote, and became Its new host. Physically strong and mentally weak, the fight for dominance was a short one, and attacked the Spider once more. The arm extended, becoming a tendril by the time it struck against the ground. As before, the Other evaded them, shooting a web into their chest. It was useless, the black creature absorbing the web strand, and the Spider stared, dumbfounded as the Iron Fist hurled a fist at them. The punch smashed into the ground, they jumped, and kicked the monk across the face, sending him sprawling.

White Tiger pounced from behind, thinking to catch them from behind. But it failed, and they wrapped the inky ooze around her middle and threw her across the roof. They grabbed a large, heavy object to crush her when the Spider then burned them with a web that crackled with electricity, forcing them to drop it. It screamed in pain and anger, drooping from the muscled form it clung to. Powerman showed underneath for a moment, and then was gone again.

Could he not see how much better they would be if they were bonded? How much stronger they could both be, how efficient? If not, then It would show him what it was like, all the pleasures that were to come, and how loved he would be. Oh how he would be loved and how no darkness or pain would ever touch him again, never be lonely again. Yes, he would see how much better it would be, how the two were always meant to be one.

Then the green monk faced It again, and with a single, glowing fist, forced them away from the strongman. He flipped and leaped in rapid succession as the symbiote followed his every move and each attempt at a grab missed, and even destroyed part of It before he slowed, and It caught him by the ankle.

As the symbiote bonded with him, this one thoughts meshed with Its own, and he finally understood what It wanted. How badly It desired the Spider that continued to run from It. It revealed this to Its beloved Spider, and seemed as much surprised as the others.

The Symbiote controlled Iron Fist roared at Spider-man in glee, and they attacked. Spider blocked this time, and he could feel the bruises that were sure to form tomorrow each time he did. If there was a tomorrow. A web covered their face when he ducked, and disappeared into the black. Screeching, a glowing, yellow fist collided with the wall-crawler, and he smashed into a billboard behind him, with the face of fast talking, cheap buisnessman.

Then the host fought against It, and the symbiote was forced off by sheer force of will. It did not matter. There was another It could take.

But before It could, the Other stood before It, and offered himself freely to spare his friends. And It did not hesitate, unable to contain the joy that flooded Its being, wrapping around the Spider, loving the feel of the tight skin It pressed against, each curve and groove of the sleek body that melded to It perfectly.

The symbiote let Its true host know how pleased It was, how overjoyed It was to have returned to him. The Spider peered into Its memory, seeing Its short, tortured existent. The boy could not comprehend the affection that radiated off the symbiote for him. For the boy was Its only, Its perfect, beloved partner. And It would His, would take the place of all others to fulfill Him and His needs. Would let him know a joy he had never known. And Peter was lost to the sensations in his own mind, finding this place, where ever it was, to be most enjoyable as he was lavished upon. He never wanted to leave.

On the outside, the body was changing. Red and blue became black, white being the only splashes of colors, forming eyes and a large spider symbol on the chest that was connected to an identical one on the back by the legs. The suit clung tightly to slender, yet tight form, filled out with muscles in a light build, but not overly so. A permanent, jagged, and sharp toothy grin cracked the mask, seeming as though it would split the face in two. Spider-mans friends watched it all, a look akin to horror on their faces.

And then they were no longer two. They were Venom, they shouted out for all the world to hear. And they would have been content to leave then and there.

But their teammates had other ideas. They fought them, crying out for It to release him. But It would do no such thing, even as they were attacked from each side. Venom lifted their arms high, then slammed the black fist down, cracks spider-webbing out and a shockwave knocking the team back. Venom shrieked as Iron Fist and Powerman hit hit them. Venom had had enough. If they would not leave them alone, Venom would kill the pathetic would-be heroes.

Parker resisted at this. He did not want his friends hurt. So he fought, even as the symbiote attempted to calm him. He would not be deterred, and as much as It hated it, rendering him unconscious was the only means to stop his fighting. Then they would leave, and his friends would never see them again.

However, before It could strike a sharp blow across the Spiders head, the teen had Nova release his hands. In doing so, he was able to send electrified webbing into two conduits on either side.

The result was instantaneous. They were burning, burning, _burning_. Make it stop, It begged of him. But it was too late. The symbiote was destroyed, incinerated in an single, pain filled moment. Or so it seemed.

And while Spider-mans teammates congratulated him, a tiny, unseen blob wriggled unseen on the nape of his neck. It delved into the seam of the costume and onto the skin. Peter's hand whipped back, feeling a small tickled, but found nothing.

It would wait. Would regain strength before It attempted the bonding again. Would whisper into the Spiders mind, influence his every decision and life without being discovered. He would be Its again, and they would be together forever.

* * *

**I love **Venom**. I really do. Out of all the Marvel villains, **Venom **is my favorite. My reasoning for portraying the symbiote as I did is that I have always thought that it loved Peter Parker, in its own, slightly homicidal way, and, if given the choice, would always choose Peter to be its host. It's like an angry, obsessive ex-girlfriend, in that it would rather see him dead not only because of the rejection, but because it doesn't want anyone else to have him. I have four examples of why I believe as such.****  
**

**In **Spider-man Unlimited**, episode 2, Worlds Apart, Part two, Venom exclaimed to Spider-man of how they had missed him. Wanted him back as part of them, as it always should have been, trying to force itself on him.**

**In the **Spectacular Spider-man**, episode thirteen, Nature vs Nurture, Peter lied to it, saying that he wanted it back after it and Eddie Brock beat him. It left Brock and went to Peter.**

**In a what if comic, where Peter was comatose, he had the choice of whether to come back to the living world, or to move on. He choose to move on, and sensing this, the Venom symbiote left its then host, Mac Gargan, a.k.a the Scorpion, and went to Peter, and took his body.**

**In the** Spectacular Spider-man **comic, The Hunger, the Venom symbiote left Eddie Brock, and attempted to force a bond between Peter and itself.**

**And on this note, I would like to point out that the Ulitmate-Spider-man Agent Venom is ridiculous. If Flash had been the one who was perfectly compatible with the Venom symbiote, it wouldn't have left him the first time it bonded with him. And Agent Venom in the comic is a paralyzed from the waist down Flash, who uses the symbiote to walk again, and fight crime. It's not a permanent bond unless he wears it too long.**

**Also, the Venom suit Spider-man is not huge like it is in the Ultimate-Spider-man. It was like his normal costume, except it enhanced his strength, webbing, and his other abilities. Venom is huge on Eddie Brock, who works out and has huge muscles. So the hugeness of Spider-man is rather silly.**

**Well, that's enough of my rambling. I hope you enjoyed reading the fic, and please leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**New chapter! Changed my mind about it being a oneshot. I liked the idea. This one is more in Peter's point of view, but there is a little with the symbiotes. Rated T for some blood, so be warned! And thanks to those who reviewed and all that! Enjoy!**

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Peter flopped down into bed, so sore that he didn't bother to remove his costume. His arms ached so bad that Peter didn't think he couldn't lift them if he wanted too. He buried his face in the pillow, turning away from the sunlight coming out of the window, mulling over today.

Duking it out with the Hulk hadn't been high on his list. Though he may have befriended the green Goliath, or at least something close to that, Hulk gave one hell of a sucker punch, even distracted as he was by the living bug zapper. His groaning rips protested that he should have done so sooner. Peter was sure some had cracked under the blows, and he could already feel the bruises blossoming on his pale skin. Well, Peter thought, he was probably lucky. Most people didn't survive the Hulk or being electrocuted several times.

In fact, no matter how many times he had been punched, smashed and thoroughly electrocuted, Spider-man had forced himself back up when all he wanted to do was lay there in pain. A tiny voice in his head persisted that he get up, keep fighting, to save the many thousands of people that would have died otherwise. He was glad to have stopped Zzzax, but he was so tired now. It wasn't long before exhaustion set in and soft snores filled the room.

Unbeknownst to Peter, a small, inky blob oozed its way out from under his Spider-man costume, never triggering his spider-sense as it moved to the nape of his neck.

It deflated ever so slightly at the shared pain. If It had a mouth, it surely would have sighed.

The Spider had almost _died_ today. _They _had almost died. If the symbiote had not urged Peter to keep going, had not taken a momentary control of Peter's nerves and forced him to move...It shuddered to think what would have happened. The Spider would have may as well be a smoldering corpse if not for It. The teen had thought nothing of it however, when his body had moved seemingly of its own will. It knew that Peter had thought it an instinctive reaction, had pushed that explanation into his mind so that undue questions would not arise.

But It had encountered a problem with Its host, in that Peter was seriously overtaxing himself. Between school, crime-fighting, and keeping his team in line, his Aunt May, and trying to find a job, and bullying It was amazed that the host hadn't cracked underneath it all. Admittedly, the symbiote enjoyed the negative emotions that it fed off at times. Yet it simply wouldn't do to have Peter in a near dead faint everyday.

As It pondered on how else It could improve the Other, a creaking on the stairs stirred It from the thoughts. Their Aunt May must have come home early and was coming up to their room.

Acting quickly, the symbiote oozed over Peters body in a tight stretch, save for his head and feet, covering him in a black suit that shimmered with blue highlights in the limited light. It rippled, and the costume changed into Its host normal clothing just before Aunt May peeked in.

"Hey Peter, I was thinking- oh." She started, stopping mid-sentence at seeing her nephew fast asleep on the bed. She smiled to herself. Peter worked so hard and she was so proud. May went over to where he laid, and unfolded the spare blanket at the foot of the bed, placing it over Peter so he wouldn't get cold. Going over to the window, she drew the curtain, and left the room quietly.

As she shut the door, the symbiote unfolded Itself from Peter, feeling overstretched as the clothes returned to the red and blue Spider-man suit. Still recovering from Peters attempt to remove It, and the recent attack on the city had left it exhausted. There was nothing more for them to do today, and all too willingly, melded into his costume to rest.

* * *

The next morning, Peter woke to feeling much more rested. He sat up, yawning widely and stretched his arms up, surprised when there was no pain. Even the bruises were gone! Peter looked confused, hopping out of bed to check his legs. He bent one, leaned his weight on it, then straighten and did the same to the other. He peeled off the Spider-man suit, and saw that the purple blemishes on his legs from were gone too. There was no way he could have imagined that. It wasn't possible for him to heal that fast. Even with his spider powers, it should have taken him at least a few days to heal, a week tops! Strange...

He put a hand to his forehead, and stared vacantly at the floor, unable shake the feeling that something was off, that something bad was going on.

Yet he had nothing to complain about, another thought interjected. He was fine. Better than fine even. He was perfect. And he wouldn't have to walk into school with people asking why he was walking funny. What's more he wouldn't have to break off from patrolling now. If he had, he'd never hear the end of it from his team. Especially Nova. Ugh, he'd pass on that, thank you very much.

So what if it was strange, said that same small voice, and he was hard pressed to disagree with it. Maybe his powers were getting stronger. And it wasn't like he was mutating into some man-eating spider. Er...not that that could actually happen...right?

Somewhere, Peter could had sworn he heard an amused snort.

So Peter chalked it up to his abilities acting up, and muttered a quiet "Weird," before walking over to his drawers. Surprised, but no less grateful that Aunt May hadn't seen him as Spidey, he tossed the outfit into the closet, and pulled out his usual white under shirt and blue collared over shirt and blue jeans. Peter sighed. He seriously needed to start going with Aunt May when she went shopping for clothes. He could do with some diversity in his wardrobe. It was while he was pulling his arms through the sleeves of his shirt that he heard Aunt May call from downstairs.

"Peter! Breakfast is ready! Hurry up or you'll be late!"

"Be right there!" He called back, hastily slipping on his worn out shoes, belly grumbling at the smell of bacon and eggs sizzling in the kitchen. Peter made sure his costume was well hidden in the closet before heading down when his eyes caught sight of the clock on the wall, reading seven-fifty-one.

"Oh no!" He cried out to himself, slapping a hand over his face again. "Can't be late again!" His teacher was going to kill him!

Peter rushed down into the kitchen, giving his Aunt May a quick peck on the cheek and when she tried to speak, he interrupted her, saying, "Can't be late, gotta go, bye!", not pausing for breakfast. Peter groaned as he saw the bus drive away. There was no way he could catch up without people asking questions.

So that left two options; walk to school or web swing there. Hm...choices...

"Whoo-hoo!" Spider-man cheered as he swung through the buildings a few minutes later.

* * *

When the bell signaling the end of second period rung, Peter had to stifle a groan. The morning had not gone well. Even though he had webbed his way here, he had still been late. His teacher had chewed him out, embarrassed him in front of the class, and had given him detention after school. To top it off, he had forgotten to bring his lunch, and now had to go the day without food until he got home.

Needless to say, he was not in the best of moods when Flash came up beside his locker, slamming the door shut before he could take out his science book. Peter scowled.

"Parker!" Flashed said gleefully, an annoying smirk on his face. The jock grabbed Peter roughly by the shoulder, leaning his weight on the smaller teen. "I think we need to more quality time together, don't you-"

Peter slapped his hand away, and for a moment, the bully stared stupidly at him before grabbing the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet. The halls had quieted by now, and everyone stared at the pair, some whispering bets at how badly Flash would beat Peter this time.

Normally Peter would have made a witty remark, and taken the beating, or confuse Flash and run in the opposite direction. Sometimes he pleaded with the jock, and had the decency to look afraid when he thought it was a joke. All for the sake of keeping his secret identity secret.

Not this time.

Today, he kicked Flash squarely in the chest, and the hands on his shirt lost their grip. Flash stumbled backward, and when he recovered, blindly charged forward to attack Peter when he was flipped painfully onto his back. Then Peter was beating into him, ignoring the gasps from the crowd. He struck once, then again and again. He heard a crunch and his fist came back with blood. He had broken Flash's nose. And still Peter continued to wail into him, uncaring of the desperate pleas that begged him to stop.

Peter didn't know why he was doing it. Only that he was angry, so angry at every terrible thing that had happened to him; his parents dying, Uncle Ben dying, how they were barely able to make ends meet, his incessant, annoying teammates, the constant bullying that had carried out ever since he started pre-K...all the frustration coming to a head in this heated instant.

And it felt _good_. Good to have his tormentor at his mercy, to have _him _be the one to have to beg for it to stop (another punch, a crack of bone), felt so right to be the one on top and he grinned maniacally. Briefly, he wondered if the Hulk felt as good as he did now when he was smashing people and things, that he enjoyed the suffering he inflicted on those who had wronged him. If so, Peter now understood why he rampaged through entire cities and wrecked them, enjoying the thrill that giving into the anger gave him, loved how intoxicated himself, never questioning the wrongness of his actions. Instead, he indulged in them. Vaguely, he was aware of someone screaming at him.

"-eter! Peter! Peter stop!" A deep voice yelled, grabbing Peter's wrist to stop Flash's senseless beating and breaking Peter at his stupor. Raising the other fist, intending to punish whoever _dared_ to-

It was Luke. Ava and Sam stood on either side of the black boy, Danny behind him. Peter stared at them without really seeing, only barely registering their stunned expressions, the same as Harry and MJ, who stood in the crowd, holding the same looks of paralyzing fear. He looked down at his hands, coated in thick, warm blood dripping down, glinting malevolently in the silence. Looking to Flash, he noticed for the first time how bad he looked. Though he was breathing, it was ragged and slow, as though it hurt. Some bones looked broken, his face horrible, bleeding freely as it lolled on his neck.

Peter heard some more screaming, but didn't look to see who it was. He couldn't stand the unbearable looks he was given, and so did the only thing he could.

He ran.

* * *

**Mmm, Peter's going to be trouble! And I know someone is going to say something about him being out of character about the last bit, but I would like to remind them that the symbiote enhances aggression and other negative emotions! **

**Anyways, hoped it was likable and please leave a review.**


	3. Chapter 3

NatchtNight: **I wouldn't trust him either. But remember, those are my _opinions_, not concrete fact, despite the bits I added to support my thoughts.**

INeedAUsername8: **Thanks. It's one of my favorite aspects of the symbiote, and I'm glad you liked it too.**

Monkey Typewriter: **I appreciate the constructive criticisms about my grammar, and I apologize for that as well as mistakes in my spelling.**

DANTE THE DEMON PRINCE: **Well, hopefully not one like the third movie. The dancing... -shudders-**

* * *

Peter ran from school as fast as his legs would carry him, and once out of sight, swung as far as his webs would take him. He traveled quickly, never slowing down until the emotions wrestling inside him began to subside, calming his heart as he landed atop a skyscraper. He immediately crouched, taking his head into his hands, elbows digging into the blue and red of his costume. The memory of pummeling Flash, still fresh in his mind, repeated over and over, like a broken record in his mind.

He should have felt guilt...but where guilt should have been, there was only elation, something Peter new was horribly wrong. The revelation that he had done a serious wrong was embedded into his mind, knowing that he would catch hell for it. Aunt May and Fury would tear into him for sure, a thought that did scare him. Knowing that his days as a superhero were likely limited frightened him more than any threat made a villain. Fury would kick him off the team, take a away his mask, or worse, lock him in the Helicarrier! It was a wonder that the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents weren't already swooping down on him. Maybe Fury didn't know yet. Good. It would buy him some time, if only a little.

But no, Fury wouldn't _really_ take away his mask, would he? Not after all he'd done, both for the city and the organization. Though the former despised him, there was no denying the great things he had done, such as stopping Zzzax and Taskmaster.

Peter wasn't given long to muse over his actions when he heard rapidly spinning blades and wind pushing at his back. He looked up, seeing nothing at first, before the cloaking shield went down and the great mass that was the Helicarrier appeared. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he was expected aboard as he shot a web to the base of the ship, propelling him forward, releasing once he had enough momentum and jumping to the deck. Waiting for him was the one-eyed devil himself, hands buried in the dark trench coat. That single eye bore into him intensely. Feeling as though he were not wearing a costume, or any clothes at all, Peter shifted awkwardly on his feet as the director walked up to him.

"Fury, I can explain-" Well, that wasn't true, the best one he could come up with on the spot. Fury cut him off, stopping the half formulated lie that died on his lips.

"Save it Parker."

"But-"

Fury held up his hand, motioning for the teen to stop as he was given a harsh glare.

"Beating up a normal, powerless high school student, in front of several witnesses no less, is more than enough justification needed to take you off the team."

"You haven't even heard my side yet!" Peter argued angrily, barely given enough time to speak as his fears were confirmed.

"No, but I've heard more than enough from Coulson and your teammates." The director informed. "Until this situation has been cleared up and you can prove that you're stable again, you're going to be off the team. That means no crime fighting. If we find that you are, you'll be hanging up the cape, so to speak. Do I make myself clear?"

"That's not fair!" Peter interjected.

"_Do I make myself clear_?"

Peter winced, recoiling.

"Yes sir. Crystal." He grinded out between clenched teeth. His hands shook at his sides, balled up into fists.

"Then I would suggest you get home. No doubt your aunt will have something to say by the time you get there." He added, eye never leaving Peter's masked face.

Not trusting himself to speak, the teen gave a short nod before leaping off the Helicarrier into the city below, zipping onto a web line in the direction of his home.

* * *

Tossing his book bag into a wheelie chair, Peter proceeded to fall onto his bed, covering his face in a pillow which he then screamed angrily into. Grounded for who knows how long, allowed only to walk from home to school and back, once his suspension was over, and absolutely no crime fighting, to say he was frustrated was an understatement.

There would be no hanging out with MJ as she tried to get her latest scoop, no studying with Harry at his place, no goofing off with the team.

Not that they would want to now, given the looks he received when he ran away. He really screwed up this time...

Flash, no doubt, would be in the hospital for his injuries, though they had yet to receive word from the jocks family. Whether that was good or bad was anyone's guess, Peter was thankful for it, as it meant the Thompson's weren't suing them. Yet.

And despite all the trouble it had caused, Peter couldn't help but to relive the moment of his tormentor's agony in his head, over and over like a song on repeat. Still, he hated being punished for finally sticking up for himself. What had _he_ done wrong, that Flash did not deserve several times over? Peter wish he could go back and beat the bully all over again. Flash deserved the pain-

No! What was he thinking? This wasn't like him...no one, not even someone like Flash, deserved that. Right?

Peter groaned as the beginnings of a headache throbbed in his skull, feeling emotionally drained from the day. He could debate with himself about this later. Right now, sleep would be a welcome oblivion compared to the thought of tomorrow. A sigh passed his lips, and Peter tugged on the switch of his lamp, turning on his side without the covers drawn up over himself. Several minutes later, the steady rise and fall of his chest indicated that he had fallen asleep. Black ooze seeped from his clothes, engulfing them in an inky blackness that sucked in light.

Covering the youth quickly in a sleek, black imitation of the normal red and blue costume, It raised Peter like a marionette from his bed.

* * *

**Finally had the inspiration to write another chapter. Sorry for the wait, but I only write when the mood hits me. If I'm not in the mood and I try to force it, the writing is not good at all. Believe me, I've tried, since I've completely rewritten this chapter twice, and I hope this turned out better than the previous attempts.**

**As always, thanks for the reviews in the previous chapters, and I apologize for not responding to all the reviewers. However, I am grateful for all them regardless.**


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